Bab 62: A kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?

Tristan lounged on the plush, navy velvet couch, his lean figure half sunk into the comfortable cushions. His clothes were a casual ensemble of a white cotton long-sleeved shirt and black pants, his feet crossed and propped on the coffee table. His eyes were closed, his fingers interlaced behind his head as he relaxed in the tranquil quietness of Mirabella's luxurious meeting room.

A laid-back demeanor was etched on his face as he waited for the storm known as Mirabella to descend on him.

He could practically hear the ornate clock on the wall ticking the minutes away, counting down to the exact moment Mirabella would make her entrance.

His thoughts began to wander to the last time they had met, the tension that was brewing between them. The memory of their last encounter brought a smirk to his lips.

'I will break that facade of yours! My presence here is just the beginning.'